--
"I don't even know how to play this."
Although Kiyono looked reluctant, there was a subtle hint in his demeanor: he hadn't said he wouldn't play.
"It's okay—I'll teach you. It's very simple."
The blue-haired girl cheerfully arranged the shogi pieces. Then, as if she had thought of something, she called out toward the cabinet on the other side:
"Komari, do you want to play with us too?"
The sudden, bright voice made the gloomy girl shiver, and she gave a faint, animal-like response:
"No, no thanks…"
She still had a novel to read. Komari refocused on the small phone screen, her expression concentrated and serious, occasionally breaking into a silly smile… This grim-reaper–themed book was so good. Although it was less than one volume long, its moving, gentle, and dazzling style completely captivated her. It was arguably her favorite opening in the past two years.
If only I could become like this—she couldn't help but think. A nascent thought flashed through her mind.
These past two days, whenever Yanami had free time, she would pester him to play shogi. He, in turn, became engrossed in the art of the game, his skill improving by leaps and bounds. This constant sense of progress made his spirit grow defiant—maybe he really could win those fifty thousand yen!
And when he inadvertently expressed this sentiment to the girl—
Click.
The buzzing of the air conditioner and the sound of a piece landing on the board resonated together. Yanami's Rook swept across the seventh rank, her fingertip hovering over Kiyono's King, the victory already decided.
The blue-haired girl slowly looked up at him, her pretty face cast in shadow, her eyes cold—like a supreme Demon King.
"Can you do it? Conveying your feelings isn't that simple!"
What do I need to convey?! Isn't this for the money?!
Under Kiyono's peculiar gaze, Yanami's translucent earlobes turned slightly red, and she gave a light cough. "It's… it's that the world of shogi isn't that simple!"
"I'll give it a try! For these fifty thousand yen, I'll work hard and train!"
Kiyono reset the pieces, clenched his fist, and spoke with the tone of a passionate protagonist—speaking of which, Yanami's shogi skills were surprisingly good! He hadn't won a single game against her in two days!
"Then let's go," Yanami said, standing, leaving him with a dashing, powerful back.
And so, the days of special training began.
In the library, Kiyono constantly flipped through The History of Shogi and Beginner's Shogi Manuals, while Yanami supervised him like a strict mentor;
in the cinema, Yanami accompanied Kiyono to watch movies about shogi;
in the shogi hall, Yanami wore a white headband with "Devil" written on it, strictly pointing out his mistakes;
the two continuously played, the sound of pieces striking the board growing crisper, light and shadow flickering across the squares.
The pair—almost inseparable these past few days—also piqued the curiosity of the seniors in the restaurant, who quietly discussed what new tricks the young couple were up to.
—Several days later.
In the lounge, the burning sunset cast the shogi board in amber. Thirty-three pieces threw long shadows across the yellowed score sheet. Kiyono's gilded Pawn pointed directly at the General, like a dagger held to the King's throat. Both lowered their heads, staring at the board in silence.
—They're pretending, and quite well at that; anyone who didn't know would think they were competing for the Dragon King title! These two are truly a match—in posturing and in foolishness, Komari thought, poking her head out from the gap, unable to hold back her complaints.
Just then, Kiyono's right hand, holding a piece, moved. A drop of sweat trickled down his taut wrist and plop—splashed on the "Dragon King" piece, symbol of victory and honor.
A breeze blew through, lifting the strands of hair scattered behind Yanami's ear. The sunset dyed her hair tips a translucent orange-red.
The piece landed.
The match was decided.
The blue-haired girl gazed at the board, then suddenly stood and pulled open the curtains. With a rustling sound, a cascade of crimson light, laden with dust, streamed into the room. She looked at Kiyono and calmly affirmed:
"Well done."
"I finally beat you." After a long silence, Kiyono let out a soft sigh.
Tap, tap-tap—Yanami walked up to him, smiling.
"There's nothing more I can teach you. You've graduated."
"Yanami…"
Kiyono was momentarily stunned, his expression somewhat complex, as if recalling a long period of study. Finally, he stood, bowed to the teacher before him, and said in a deep voice:
"Thank you for your guidance these past days!"
—Hey! Are you two acting in a comedy manga?!
Komari completely lost it.
"Next, as long as you beat one more person, you can officially enter the battlefield!" Teacher Yanami patted his shoulder.
Today's victory belonged to Kiyono.
Four in the afternoon.
Before greeting his next opponent, he was tidying tables in the front hall while mentally strategizing about shogi, determined to get his hands on those fifty thousand extra yen—if he could eventually unlock a Shogi Master talent, he would challenge for the achievement of the youngest Dragon King in history!
And just then, a strange customer shattered his fantasy.
It was a man whose exact age couldn't be determined—only that he could be described as a handsome middle-aged man. He had neither the aura of a successful gentleman nor the steady demeanor of a typical uncle, falling somewhere between middle-aged and young. At this moment, the man had his hands clasped under his chin, his expression profound.
…Kiyono inexplicably didn't want to get involved with him.
He glanced around; it wasn't time for anyone else to start work yet, so he could only approach and offer the menu.
"Sir, what would you like to eat?"
Hearing the voice, the man looked up, scanned him from head to toe, and said calmly, "A regular signature set meal will be fine, plus a cup of coffee."
"Please wait a moment." Kiyono noted it down.
"Young man—wait. Can I ask you a question?" the man called out.
"As long as it's something I can answer."
"If you were pursuing a girl, and she was very beautiful, how would you choose to do it? Where would you take her on a date? As a fellow man, I've been through it—I understand you."
Who asks a waiter such a question?!
Kiyono complained inwardly, but outwardly remained impeccable, his smile gentle—like a butler in a noble estate. He pondered for a moment and replied:
"Sincerity, courage, respect, and the material foundation to ensure a good life… As for the place, it depends on the girl's personality—mostly parks, libraries, or restaurants."
The man seemed not to have expected such a neat answer. He paused, then immediately asked:
"What if—hypothetically—the person you were dating in the future loved to eat and demanded more snacks than the standard every day? What would you do?"
…That description somehow felt familiar.
Kiyono continued, "Then I would stop her and create a plan for her, so she could satisfy her appetite without harming her body. True love is about making your partner better, not indulging them without restraint."
"First round, you passed."
What am I being tested for?!
Kiyono's eye twitched uncontrollably. "Do you have any other questions?"
"No, that's all. I apologize for asking such strange things."
Watching Kiyono's retreating back, the man's expression grew thoughtful.
Of course, he knew the principle of judging a person by their actions. So today he intended to observe the other party a little—and incidentally inspect the working environment here.
The hands of the clock kept turning.
As for the result…
To be honest, there was nothing to fault. The details revealed in his every word and action gave a sense of reliability and steadiness. He was truly very good. A person is judged from the inside out; someone with an unstable mind and no self-control could never maintain this kind of behavior for long. Most people would probably just try to be lazy and make things easier for themselves.
This wasn't extraordinary, but it certainly left a very good impression.
As the man continued to observe, his mood improved somewhat. Kiyono's mood, however, grew worse—anxious, even. The expression practically written on his face made Yanami curious; during a break, she asked:
"What's wrong, Senpai?"
"I might be targeted," Kiyono said heavily. Last time at the station, thanks to the ticket gate, he hadn't clearly seen Yanami's parents; for a moment, he hadn't connected the man to Yanami.
Hearing this, Yanami's expression turned a little strange. She rubbed her face to keep from smiling, though her tone still carried a hint of cheerfulness.
"Specifically?"
"There's an uncle who's been staring at me in the restaurant all afternoon, occasionally showing expressions of admiration and danger."
"Eh…"
"I stepped outside just now and found he still hadn't left—and he even looked at me. Is he planning to follow me after I get off work?"
"Hmm…"
"Do you think, if this continues, I should call the police?"
Boys must protect themselves when out and about.
Seeing things rapidly heading toward the dangerous direction of her father getting into trouble, Yanami quickly interrupted:
"Perhaps… perhaps he just admires you! Like a senior looking at a junior!"
"If you saw his eyes, you wouldn't think that. That's definitely not just admiration; it's mixed with subtle hostility, gloom… He's absolutely a pervert!" Kiyono said with utmost certainty.
Yanami smacked her aching forehead. Time to take action.
"So… the next opponent you mentioned last time is Chihaya Asagumo?"
Kiyono looked up at the girl in front of him.
In the afternoon's soft sunlight, the literary girl's forehead reflected a faint glow, her brows and eyes gentle. It was indeed the legendary secret agent—Chihaya Asagumo.
"When Yanami-san approached me, I was a little startled…"
Asahi sat by the window, taking a small sip of orange juice, her smile reminiscent of a dandelion. "However, I've always wanted to find an opportunity to meet Kiyono, and playing shogi is a good way to do it."
"Asahi-san plays shogi?" Kiyono brought over a glass of iced barley tea.
"I usually have a small match with the elders at home…" The girl was very modest.
Kiyono nodded, his hands itching—eager to earn money.
The shogi game resumed.
Beside them, the special teacher Yanami alternated between watching the board and watching the two. Inviting Asahi had been a well-thought-out move—and it was fine, because she was present.
"Kiyono, do you usually like to read a lot?" Asahi calmly advanced her Pawn, opening the conversation.
"I often read various miscellaneous books," Kiyono said, quietly setting up his strategy.
"What kind of books do you like to read? Tanka? We might surprisingly like the same book."
Asahi's tone was like that of a big sister. This was actually her genuine feeling—she knew that Yakishio Lemon's rhetoric and tanka were all taught by Kiyono.
He mentioned several titles, and the literary girl answered each, offering unique insights.
The atmosphere gradually warmed; the situation on the board grew more intense. Asahi attacked with a gentle offensive, casually saying:
"Kiyono, how do boys generally view childhood friends? I'm a little curious."
After witnessing the feelings between childhood friends that day, an emotion lingered in her heart that she couldn't shake. This was the result of her impulsive actions, and she couldn't tell anyone… Perhaps because Kiyono was relatively unfamiliar to her—and had intervened in their three-person relationship from a peculiar angle—she felt she could confide in this young man.
"Classic," Kiyono said, eyes on the board, expression solemn. "Running to the classroom door after school, waiting to walk home together—well-behaved and charming, pure and beautiful. Who wouldn't want a childhood friend like that?"